


I've Hurt Before (But Not Like This)

by keep_me_alone



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Also I just threw every fucking h/c trope I could at the wall and this is what stuck, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Caleb Whump, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fainting, Fever, Fever Dreams, Hurt Caleb Widogast, Hurt/Comfort, I'm gay and i yearn and so do these lads, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Whump, about at like the level of the show, also most of the cast makes a brief appearance but they're not like In it in it so i didnt tag em, and by that I mean Dramatic Irony tm, and he has a fucking custom oracle deck, bc things mean things, caleb is touch starved and also touch averse sucks to fucking suck my dude, cowboy medicine, indirect references to character death, listen here motherfuckers this is some pre slash nonsense, or like maybe not even that lmao, there is going to be better, this gets like... pretty fucking angsty, this is like what if slowburn but they never get there, yeah I gave molly a standard deck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24192979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keep_me_alone/pseuds/keep_me_alone
Summary: Molly and Caleb do an 'easy' job and get beat up as a result (that's pre fic because I'm lazy) You get dropped in after the battle when Molly starts rescuing Caleb. Then Molly has some Gay Thoughts and has an uncomfortable conversation with Caleb. I've never met a real plot in my life, this is just about characters to be quite honest.
Relationships: Mollymauk Tealeaf & Caleb Widogast, Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 9
Kudos: 126





	1. If You Can't Hold on, Hold on

**Author's Note:**

> you know that art piece thats like.. you construct intricate rituals to touch the skin of other men? Yeah i think abt that a lot. The secret to those rituals is pain! SO here you go

Caleb woke up confused. Something had struck his face. Not hard, but it had happened... maybe a few times. He wasn’t sure what was going on. Was he on the ground? He recalled what he’d just been doing and a flash of panic overtook him. 

"I have to... We have to... The bandits," he struggled to sit up, but something (someone?) was pinning him down. It hurt, but he had to get up. He had to get to Mollymauk. The bandits-.

"Easy... easy." He recognized that voice, could do what it told him. Caleb stopped fighting. He tried to think, but his mind was hazy with pain. "I got the last of them." A face appeared in his field of vision. _Mollymauk._ "Lie still a moment." Caleb went limp. The face vanished again and Caleb heard him rummaging through his pack, one of Molly’s hands still pushing painfully into his chest. Molly stopped pressing on Caleb’s chest for a moment to support his head as he held something to his lips. Caleb let him tip the liquid into his mouth. It was not water as he'd expected, but whiskey. He sputtered and coughed. It felt as though his chest was being ripped open. Despite himself, Caleb felt tears slip from his watering eyes. He squeezed them shut, embarrassed, not wanting to see Molly's face.

"There now, that's alright," Molly murmured, gently wiping spit and tears from his face, "one more." He poured more whiskey into Caleb. Expecting it this time, he was able to swallow it easily. "Sorry dear, I should have warned you." He looked sympathetic, regretful. 

"It's fine," Caleb rasped. "What are you going to do?" His voice sounded faint and distant. Talking made the constant, pressing pain in his chest turn white hot. He didn’t want to do it anymore, but he did want to know if Mollymauk was going to leave him on the side of the road like a broken cart, or put him down like a lame horse. It felt like if Mollymauk left him for an hour or so, he wouldn’t need to. 

"I'm going to bandage you up and get you back to town. Jester should be able to help you a little better." Molly felt like he should apologize again, felt the words battering against his closed lips. He wanted to apologize for not keeping better watch, though the road was supposed to have been safe. He wanted to apologize for not keeping Caleb protected, though he knew that that was not his job. He wanted to apologize for the hurt he was about to cause him, though it was in service to his health. But he didn't think that Caleb would appreciate any of that, so instead he smoothed the sweaty hair from Caleb's forehead. Caleb closed his eyes, grateful to focus on something that wasn't radiating pain. 

Molly peeked under the cloth he'd been pressing to Caleb's chest. The bleeding hadn’t quite stopped, but had slowed to a sluggish drip. He let the fabric fall before unsheathing Caleb's dagger and using it to cut away the remains of his shirt. 

"Hey! I was wearing that." Caleb protested faintly, but he didn't move to stop him. 

"It wasn't much of a shirt anyways." Molly said as he surveyed the wound. It was a long diagonal slice starting near Caleb's shoulder and carving down to the ribs on the opposite side. It was not quite as deep as Molly had feared, but he couldn't know how much blood Caleb had lost. Judging by his pallor and weakness, it was probably a lot. Molly considered his next step, though it really wasn't much of a consideration. The wound was dirty. If he didn't want Caleb to die of an infection, whether they reached Jester or not, it had to be cleaned. 

"Do you think you can stand some more unpleasantness?" Molly asked. Caleb only groaned in response. "Good boy," Molly squeezed his shoulder. That was all the warning Caleb got before Molly upended the flask over his chest. 

Caleb made a strangled noise, his back arching. Molly held him as best he could, trying desperately to avoid aggravating the wound, or letting Caleb hurt himself. 

Caleb twisted, trying to escape the pain. He panted, each breath tearing him open. The pain infringed, white hot, creeping in the edges of his vision. And then in waves, like the tide, receded. In increments, he became aware of Molly's arms around him, of gently repeated reassurances, that he was alright, would be ok, that the pain would pass. 

"Mollymauk?" He said weakly.

"Yes, dear?" 

"That fucking sucked."

"I know. I'm very sorry." Caleb started to protest, moved a hand to wave the apology away. Molly caught the hand and held it. "Let's just be grateful we'll have a healer soon. I'd hate to have to stitch you up myself."

"Ja," Caleb agreed. He'd had wounds stitched in the field before and it wasn't an experience he cared to repeat. 

"Can you sit up?" Molly asked after he'd given Caleb a minute to rest.

"I... do not know." Molly shifted him up and off his lap. Caleb swayed, but seemed as stable as he could hope. 

Caleb held himself up with an effort that made his head spin. He became aware of how cold he was, shirtless and damp, removed from the comfort of Molly's arms. 

Molly's hands were warm and deft as he quickly wrapped the bandages around Caleb's torso.. He worked quickly, knowing it had to hurt. And when he did for a moment think that Caleb might faint again, Molly leaned him back, cradled him against his chest until Caleb had caught his breath and could continue. In this way, over a few tries Molly managed to get him reasonably well bandaged. He had to leave Caleb for another moment, propping him against a tree to avoid leaving him in the dirt. 

Caleb shivered as Molly went back to looking through his things. Though it was a bright, clear day and the birds were singing, the cold air held the promise of winter. 

"Here we are," Molly turned back to Caleb, holding a blanket. 

"I have a cloak," Caleb muttered. 

"It's as filthy as the rest of your things," Molly said amicably. He wrapped Caleb up, carefully tucking in the corners so it wouldn’t fall off. "My blanket will have to do. I'd give you my coat, but I don't trust you not to bleed on it." He finished tucking the blanket around Caleb. "Now don't move. I'm going to search these bastards and get our horses together." 

Caleb watched as Molly did just that. He felt some emotion he couldn't quite place, an ache under his ribs, as he watched the tiefling stride about, stooping to collect small purses, chasing after W.C. who kept prancing just out of reach. He was too tired to think about it though and his chest hurt too much. Molly finally caught the horse and tied his reins to the back of Loo's saddle. 

He returned to help Caleb up, had to lead him the few steps to the horses with an arm around his waist. 

"Up you get." And then Molly was half lifting him, pushing him into the saddle. Caleb clutched at the pommel, willing himself to remain conscious. His vision darkened and stretched. His fingers released the saddle. But it was alright because suddenly Molly was up behind him, putting his arms around him, keeping him upright, murmuring something Caleb couldn't decode, might not have even been words. 

Molly worried his lip between his teeth. He felt it when Caleb had lost consciousness again. Caleb went limp, his head lolling against Molly's shoulder. Their situation was not ideal. They should have been close enough to reach the city that night, but with Caleb incapacitated, the road would be slow going. They wouldn't make it before the gates closed for the night. He didn't want to push Caleb that hard anyways. 

Molly started the horses along the road. He had one hand on the reins, the other holding Caleb. Their pace was excruciatingly slow. He had nothing to do but think. 

Molly tried not to brood. It would be fine. At the very latest, they'd be in town tomorrow afternoon. Caleb wasn't bleeding out. His wound wouldn't get infected. It would be fine. 

Molly passed the rest of the day in agony. The day in all its splendour seemed to mock him. He felt trapped, helpless as Loo walked on. It was a quick walk, but it wasn’t enough. Molly wanted to leave Caleb, to race ahead and get help. He couldn't though. Caleb was in no state to defend himself if something happened and what if they couldn't get out of the city before nightfall? No, he knew it was stupid. He just wanted to do something. 

Caleb faded in and out of consciousness as they went. He wasn't certain of what was happening. The brightness of the day hurt his eyes, so he stopped opening them. Caleb was aware of very few things: the perpetual motion of the horse and the pain it brought, the cool breeze on his hot skin, Molly's arms around him, the tiefling hushing him when he stirred too restlessly. Although the ride went much more quickly for him, it was no less unpleasant. 

Molly decided to make camp just before sundown. There was a shelter on the side of the road. Three walls, a roof and a few stacks of firewood. A godsend. Molly dismounted, then pulled Caleb off as well. There was no dismount for him, only slithering out of the saddle to land in Molly's capable arms. 

Molly expected this. He caught Caleb, who was heavy, but lighter than he should have been. Molly carried him under the shelter and laid him carefully on the bare dirt floor. Caleb looked unwell, pale and sweating. His eyes fluttered open. Molly stroked his cheek with the back of his hand and made a low noise.

"You're hot." 

"Mollymauk, I hardly think-" Caleb began. His voice was quiet and muddied. 

"Not that," Molly interrupted briskly, "you're feverish." 

"Oh," that meant his wound was infected. Caleb wondered briefly if he was going to die. He felt exhaustion gnawing at his bones and thought, not for the first time, that it might not be such a terrible thing. 

"You need to drink something," Molly said. He unhooked his waterskin from his belt and Caleb again allowed Molly to help him. It was embarrassing, but only faintly. Between the pain in his chest, and the heat and ache of his body, it was hard to find room for anything else. 

Caleb watched as Molly set up the camp. He endured it when Molly peeled off his bandages and disinfected the wound with more alcohol. He let himself cry at the resulting pain, too tired to resist the tears and found comfort in Molly's embrace and soft assurances, despite himself. 

Molly had some kind of powdered soup in a pouch, that made for an acceptable supper. Caleb was a pliant patient, and despite being only half-conscious, was not difficult to feed. When they’d completed that ritual, Molly held Caleb until he had fallen asleep and for some time after. Eventually, wanting Caleb to be as comfortable as possible, he laid him back on his bedroll, and pulled their combined blankets over him. 

"Come on Caleb," he said quietly, "fight it off." Caleb stirred fitfully under the covers, sweat shining on his forehead. Molly shuffled himself closer, the top of Caleb’s head brushing his thigh, wanting to be close in case he was needed. Molly wiped Caleb’s face. He was going to keep watch all night. He didn't expect any trouble on this road, not this close to town, but then he hadn't expected it earlier. 

Sometime in the night, when Molly's eyes felt dry and it was a struggle to keep them open, Caleb began to mutter. Most of the words were nonsense, a few were names: mother, father, Astrid, Trent. The names meant nothing to Molly, but they clearly meant something to Caleb. He was tossing his head and his legs moved restlessly. Molly laid a hand on his shoulder, trying to keep him still, to calm him. Caleb opened glassy eyes. He looked through Molly, not seeing him.

"Astrid?" He asked.

"You're alright," Molly told him. "I've got you." 

"I missed you," Caleb whispered hoarsely. 

"I'm not going anywhere," Molly ached. He desperately wanted the sun to rise. He would have given anything to leave that moment, anything for Caleb's eyes to clear, for his fever to break. He didn't know who Astrid was, but he could do this now, for Caleb. For Caleb.

"Don't leave me here. Please." His desperate voice broke and Molly's heart with it. 

"Of course not, love. Of course I'm staying." He bent to kiss Caleb's forehead, the heat from Caleb's skin searing his lips. "Hush now," he murmured, running his hand over Caleb's hair. "Just rest." 

Caleb's gaze wandered away, as his murmurs lapsed partly and then fully into Zemnian and Molly lost the thread of them completely. 

Molly kept vigil over their camp and over Caleb and prayed for dawn to come. He watched the moon drift lazily across the sky, feeling exhaustion pull at his bones. The night sky glittered with stars. It was beautiful and he resented it for that. The gentle hills stretched out forever, grass rippling in the light wind. Molly pulled his coat more tightly around himself. He searched beyond the low burn of the fire for something, anything. The only thing he saw was the eventual lightening of the sky. It was so subtle at first, he thought he was imagining it. He wasn't. Molly was up in a flash. He had the horses ready and the fire doused before the sun had even touched the horizon. 

Molly checked on Caleb, he was still white as a sheet and hot to the touch, but to Molly's untrained eye, didn't seem much worse. He did his best to get some water into Caleb, with little success. He was barely responsive and much of the water spilled over his chin. Molly cleaned him up, considering how best to get him onto the horse. He regretted the fact that the horses weren't trained to kneel as some of the circus animals were. It would have made his life much easier. 

Eventually, he had to just lift Caleb onto the horse. It was difficult, he was basically deadweight and Molly wasn’t that strong. Caleb struggled feebly, groaning. Molly ignored him. Caleb _had_ to get on the horse; Molly couldn't very well carry him the rest of the way. So he pushed and tugged until Caleb had made it, then tied his legs to the fenders before mounting up himself. He pushed W.C. into a smooth jog. He'd have gone faster, but he didn't want to injure W.C. and he didn't want either Caleb or himself to fall. The situation had only deteriorated with time, and he wanted to get back to Jester as quickly as possible. 

They made it to the city in good time. The gate was already open for the day. A short guard with a long beard approached them.

"What's wrong with ‘im, then?" The guard asked, eyeing them up. 

"He's drunk," Molly said.

"What already?" The guard asked incredulously.

"Yeah, he's got a real problem." Molly waited a moment for the guard to speak. "I'd really like to get him back in his bed sooner rather than later," he said pointedly.

"Well... a’right then," the guard still seemed unsure, but moved to let them pass. This was fortunate, as Molly had been mentally preparing to Charm him, and it saved him from being in trouble when the spell wore off in the next hour. 

"Thank you very much, sir." Molly rode past, feeling a little easier now that he was in the city. 

It was no trouble at all to find the inn the rest of the party was staying at. A stablehand was thankfully present and for a gold, though she would have done it for a copper, she held the horses for Molly while he untied Caleb and pulled him down. Molly briefly directed the dwarf girl on where to put the horses and who to charge, before taking Caleb inside.

Molly hadn't stopped to think of how he and Caleb must look, but the barkeep reminded him. He was a tanned, angry looking man who apparently objected to having riffraff under his roof. 

"Hey!" He shouted, "you can't bring him in here. I don't want no trouble."

Molly's blood boiled. He'd wasted so much time on the road, he wasn't wasting anymore. 

"Don't tell me what I can't do," Molly hissed in Infernal. The colour drained from the barkeep's face as he took a step back, terrified. Molly darted up the stairs, Caleb heavy in his arms. He could apologize later. Caleb couldn't wait.

Molly burst into Jester and Beau's room. Beau scrambled out of their shared bed, halfway into a fighting stance before she realized who it was.

"Aw c'mon man. I'm not wearing a shirt." Beau complained. "Knock next time." 

"My hands are a little full at the moment," Molly replied tersely. "And it's not like we haven't all seen each other naked."

"Yeah fair enough." Beau shrugged and went to find her shirt as Molly turned back to the bed. He wondered how hungover she must be that she hadn’t really noticed Caleb. 

"Now Jester, could you be prevailed upon to get up and heal our dear friend?" 

"Nooo, I'm sleeping," Jester complained. She cracked one eye open. Seeing the state Caleb was in, she instantly popped off the bed. "Oh no, Caleb what happened to you?" She cried. "Put him on the bed, quick." Seeing him now, Beau swore in the background as Molly put Caleb down. Jester scrunched her eyes shut and said, "hey Traveller, if you could make it so that Caleb doesn't die I think that'd be really good and really cool of you, thanks." She tapped Caleb, a little harder than necessary, Molly thought, on the face. Jester hummed, "yeah that was pretty good, but I really think you can do just like, a little bit better than that." She tapped Caleb's forehead again. This time, some of the colour came back to his cheeks, the lines of pain around his mouth and eyes eased. Jester turned her purple eyes to Molly. 

"You guys should really have been more careful," she said reproachfully, "Caleb could have like died. You're really lucky I'm such a talented healer and all."

"We're very lucky to have you," Molly agreed. "That's a very cute nightgown, by the way." He sat on the bed, feeling himself give way to exhaustion. 

"Thank you! My mom gave it to me for my birthday a long, long time ago, when I still lived at home."

"It suits you very well." Molly's eyes drifted shut. "Someone should go tell the others we're ba-." He didn't have time to finish his sentence as the door opened with a bang. Molly's eyes flew open as he shot to his feet.

"What did you do to him?" Nott shrieked as she charged into the room, crossbow out and loaded. Molly sighed and sat back down, ignoring her weapon and the flashing of her pointed teeth.

"Dragged him back here after some bandits tried very hard to kill us." 

"Bandits?" Fjord came into the room more calmly than Nott had. "But that's a patrolled road."

"I was surprised too." Molly started taking off his boots. "There's not a lot to say about it. I haven't slept though and I intend to remedy that." His head spun with fatigue. 

"Yeah, we'll all clear out for ya," Fjord looked meaningfully at the rest of the group. 

"I am not leaving him," Nott piped up, "but also, I'm sorry for yelling at you-,"

"And for threatening me with a crossbow," Molly said.

"Yes, and for threatening you with a crossbow." Nott said somewhat reluctantly. "I was just worried. Do you think he's really going to be alright? Beau said he looked really bad, but he looks a bit better now."

"He's going to be ok now because I'm a really good healer and definitely didn't need to heal him more than once because I'm so good at it." Jester replied. "Fjord is right though, we should probably let them sleep." She flounced out of the room, still in her nightgown. Fjord grabbed her cloak and followed her out. Molly could hear him trying to persuade her, for decency's sake, to put it on. He also heard her flirtatious refusal. They carried on as they went downstairs for breakfast. Molly sighed deeply and pulled off his coat.

As he removed his shirt, he became aware for the first time that he was also covered in shallow cuts and bruises. He was dirty and bloody, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He started pulling off Caleb's boots and was a little surprised when Nott began helping. He'd forgotten she was there. He was so tired.

"Thank you," Nott said softly, "for taking care of him."

"Of course," Molly replied. He unwrapped Caleb from the blanket he'd travelled in and pulled up the edge of his bandages. The healing had worked. His chest was still bloody and grimy, but the edges of the wound had come together and the redness and heat were gone. 

"Nott, could you be a dear and fetch some water and rags. I don't want him to wake up like this."

"Sure," she said, scurrying away. While she was gone, Molly took the opportunity to cut Caleb's bandages off. He threw them on the floor, mentally adding them to the list of things he'd deal with later. 

When Nott returned, they dabbed at dirt and gore, tenderly attempting to wash away yesterday’s pain. Caleb, half asleep and sensing that his protective layer of dirt was being removed, made muffled noises of protest, but neither paid him any attention. They rolled him over to wash his back and Molly tossed his dirty blanket to the floor with the rest of their clothes to be laundered. They turned Caleb back over with some effort so he wouldn’t be resting on his chest. Then finally, finally, he could rest. 

Molly nudged Caleb over a bit so that he could crawl in next to him. Nott scrambled over both of them, all knees and elbows to curl up against Caleb's chest. Caleb's arm instinctively covered her. Molly pulled the blankets up over all of them, then pressed his chest into Caleb's back and caught him by the waist. He had only a moment to relish the feeling of heaviness and warmth before he was asleep.


	2. I Imagine Death So Much It Feels More Like a Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Fjord and Molly deal with the barkeep, Molly has some Thoughts, and later tries to have a conversation with Caleb that doesn't go great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's probably tacky to include a quote at the beginning of the chapter but I'm gonna do it bc I thought abt this quote the whoooole way thru
> 
> "But the seven of you have something that nobody else ever had: time. All the time in the world. Time enough to grow indescribably close. Time enough to learn how to care for each other, how to allow yourselves to be cared for. And in the case of Barry and Lup, time enough to fall deeply and truly in love." Griffin Mcelroy

Molly woke up stiff and sore. He was disoriented, having no idea what time or day it was. Nott was gone and so were the dirty things he’d thrown on the floor. Caleb lay next to him, long strands of copper hair falling across his face. Molly reached over to brush them out of his eyes, but reconsidered and withdrew. He looked at Caleb's face for a long moment. Even in sleep he looked tired and worn. It struck him that Caleb wasn’t as old as he seemed.That was an interesting thought to follow, but not as interesting as the sudden insistence of his hunger. Molly got up carefully to avoid disturbing Caleb. He would probably sleep most of the day. Even when a healing had taken place, sometimes what you needed was time. 

Molly headed down stairs looking for alcohol and food. Then he saw the barkeep. The barkeep saw him. The man went white, then red.

"Git outta my inn, ye bleedin' devil!" He shouted. Molly waited patiently as the man yelled several other insults related to his heritage. None were particularly inventive. He wished he'd had the insight to Charm the man yesterday, but he'd been busy saving a life. Molly dug through his purse, pulled out five gold and held it out in the barkeep’s direction.

"I'd like some drink and food, and there's a tip for the trouble last night." It was a lot of money.

"I ain't takin' your fuckin' money, fiend. Probly fuckin' cursed it." He spat at Molly. That was something Molly could almost admire. He was inconveniencing himself just to show his contempt. It was certainly a statement. Molly held his hands up in surrender and gave the man a shallow bow. It was his own damn fault for cursing him. He knew better.

Not having a lot of available options, he left. Molly sighed deeply as he walked towards the stables. He had his money, he could go somewhere else, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to sit down. There was a convenient bench in front of the stable for just this purpose. Molly sat for a while, taking in the smells and sounds of the horses, letting the sunlight warm his face. He wasn't sitting for too long before Fjord came by.

"Glad to see you up," Fjord said. "How's Caleb?"

"He was still sleeping when I left," Molly told him. Fjord grunted.

"Why're you out here? Enjoyin' the sunshine?"

"Not exactly. I had a bit of a run in with the owner." 

"Mollymauk fuckin' Tealeaf." Fjord sighed. 

"I know. I'd appreciate it if you could try to smooth things over. I tried to pay him, but he won't take anything from me. He seems to think I'm a devil. Which given," he gestured broadly to himself, "this, isn't so surprising." He ran a hand through his hair, "I might have also yelled at him in Infernal." Fjord gave him a long suffering look. 

"I'll take care of it." 

“You’re a good man,” Molly grinned at him, “tell me how much he runs you for and I’ll pay you back.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Fjord waved him off, rolling his eyes as he went in. The barkeep looked up as he entered, then seemed to relax slightly when he saw who it was, or more likely, who it was not. It was an odd hour, early afternoon. The room was deserted except for one cloaked figure, dead drunk and half sprawled over their table. Fjord slid onto a bar stool. 

“Afternoon, Mr. Talbot. Got a drink for me?” He put a gold down on the bar. 

“Right away, sir.” He moved to snatch up the coin, but Fjord caught his hand.

“Now hold on a minute. You‘n me are gonna have a conversation here first, an’ I’ll pay my tab when I’m done.’ Talbot’s face instantly clouded with suspicion. He did get a drink, sliding it reluctantly to Fjord. Fjord took a moment to take a long drink. It tasted like piss, but that was about what he expected. “I heard you had a bit of a run in with one of my friends?” He took a deep drink.

“Cursed me in my own bar, he did!” Talbot squawked. 

“Yeah, that’s about what I heard,” Fjord drawled. “Another drink, if you wouldn’t mind?” 

“But-,” Talbot began, glancing at his drink which he hadn’t even half finished.

“Yeah?” Fjord put another gold on the counter before slamming the rest of his drink back. Wordlessly, Talbot got him a new one.“Thanks. So what I was saying, Molly’s real sorry and well, we’re all pretty cozy here and as we’re only stayin’ a few more days, we’d hate to have to pack up to relocate to, oh I don’t know, The Shamed Vagabond across the way there.” Talbot opened his mouth to say something, probably angry at the mention of his competition. Fjord held up a hand for his silence and put another gold on the table. “I feel like my friends and I have been pretty generous with our coin,” he gave Talbot a pointed look, “but I could persuade them to be a little nicer for the rest of our stay.” He paused to let Talbot think this over. “But if you wanna continue benefitin’ from our patronage, all of us have to stay.”

“No more trouble?” Talbot asked suspiciously. 

“No more trouble,” Fjord agreed. He laid down another two gold. “Now, can I get my friend back in here for a meal an’ a drink, or do we need to go?” Talbot wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve, staring at the gold. 

“I ain’t gonna deal with him. I’ll deal with you.” He said, glancing up to meet Fjord’s gaze.

“Sure thing,” Fjord agreed. Talbot snorted as he swept the gold off the bar. Fjord took another long drink before he left to go find Molly. The tiefling was lounging where Fjord had left him. 

“You’re pickin’ up the tab for meals ‘n drink.” Fjord told him. “And we’re gonna be leavin’ some pretty good tips.” Molly shrugged one lazy shoulder.

“That seems fair.”

“And you’re not to talk to Talbot. If you need something, I’ll help you out.” 

“Sure,” Molly stood and stretched. Fjord gave him a good look over while he did so. 

“You look pretty beat. Maybe Jester should take a look at you when she gets back.” 

“Maybe. I’d rather she heal Caleb again, if she can.” 

“He’s been healed already. You haven’t.”

“He was hurt worse.” Molly replied. He had a certain tone in his voice that Fjord didn’t know how to read, so he dropped it and followed Molly inside. Two meals and two drinks were waiting on a table as far from the bar as possible. Talbot was wiping down tankards and glaring at them. 

Fjord wasn’t particularly hungry. He ate his bread and sipped his ale, hoping Talbot hadn’t spit in it. He kept quiet company while Molly devoured his meal, then pushed his own plate over for him. Molly spared him only a quick word of thanks before tucking into that as well. When he was done, Molly sat back with a deep sigh. They sat without speaking for a long minute.

“I’m going to check on Caleb.” Molly stood.

“I’ll look in on him too.” Fjord joined him. 

Caleb was still asleep. Fjord thought he looked much better than he had last night. He didn’t look well, but had gotten some of the colour back in his face and his pained expression was mostly gone. Fjord happened to look over at Molly and found him gazing intently at Caleb with an expression that he couldn’t read. It made him feel slightly awkward, like he was intruding on something he didn’t understand. Fjord excused himself and headed for the door. Molly didn’t move, acted like he maybe hadn’t heard at all. 

Molly only distantly noticed the sound of the door closing. He’d hadn’t slept nearly enough to make up for his sleepless night. He sank into the chair next to the bed. It was bare wood and not particularly comfortable, but he didn’t mind. It hadn’t been there last night, and he wondered which of the Nein had brought it in. The thought that someone else had watched for them the way he would now watch for Caleb made him feel… oddly soft. 

Molly sighed and pulled out his tarot cards. He shuffled them, slowly at first, then with more flair until the cards flew from one hand to the other, gold leaf flashing. He shuffled until he was bored and had run through some of his usual tricks, then split the deck and pulled a card. 

The wheel of fortune. Molly hummed. It was a card he was familiar with, one he liked. What goes around comes around. What goes up must come down. Maybe it meant that after this latest disaster things would look up a bit. Maybe it meant he would lose all his money after the recent fortune of The Gentleman’s advance payment. For better or worse, Molly wasn’t concerned. This was a card he found comfort in, a reminder of life’s instability. He took another card.

Molly frowned. The card showed a person hovering off the ground, their back arched, impaled with ten swords. Major disaster, extreme force moving against you, unexpected, unavoidable. That was… grim. Along with the wheel, it was a bad sign. He set the card on the nightstand, glancing sideways at it as he pulled the next one. He had a sinking feeling that he knew what it would be.

A tall tower, burning, struck by lightning, a person falling from one of its windows. Molly closed his eyes gently. Inescapable disaster. Destruction and chaos. He had been pulling the tower and the ten of swords together a lot recently. 

Molly opened his eyes and thoroughly shuffled his cards, then shuffled again. The first card, eight of cups, absence. The second, the tower. Then the ten of swords. Molly fiddled with the moon pendant that hung on one of his horns. It wasn’t the first time his cards had gotten stuck like this and he knew that it was important, that he had to pay attention. He’d had a similar repeated reading when the circus had come to Trostenwald. He knew it for a warning and had treated it with the gravity it demanded, and yet he’d been unable to stop it. Molly stood and began pacing, filled with nervous energy. He started shuffling his cards, making them jump from one hand to the other. All he could do was keep an eye out. There was nothing specific here, nothing actionable.

Molly wondered if he would give his life to save one of the others. If the situation required it, if he would take an arrow for Caleb, a sword meant for Yasha. He’d been running on borrowed time since he’d woken up choking on dirt, but he wasn’t ready to be done just yet. He had so many things to do, so much more life to live. 

Molly did some complicated bullshit with the cards, trying to give himself something else to focus on. He needed to keep his head on straight. The reading didn’t necessarily mean death, just danger. The Gentleman was paying them a lot of money for a good reason. He knew what he was getting into when he signed on with these idiots. It was a dangerous world out there. He knew and had known that he’d get hurt, that they all would. He would be careful, but not overcautious and he would make sure that he lived a life worth the pain. That was all. Anything beyond that was pointless fussing and would only make him miserable.

A groan startled Molly and he faltered, very nearly dropping his cards. He’d almost forgotten Caleb was there, wrapped up in his  own existential imaginings. Molly stowed the cards and sat lightly on the edge of the bed. He thought for a moment that Caleb might be waking, but after watching him thrash a few more times, it became evident that he was probably just dreaming. Molly put his hand over Caleb’s, running his thumb gently over his knuckles. 

This man. Absolutely brilliant and entirely fucked up. Molly adored him, in a way that he couldn’t quite wrap his head around. In the two years he’d been properly alive, Molly had never before experienced a feeling quite like this. It wasn’t euphoria or a high that he was chasing after, which was how he tended to feel about the people he slept with, but it was something slow and steady, deep and unending as a river. He’d hop into bed with Caleb the second he asked, because of course he would, but he could live without that too. It was something that could happen, or maybe wouldn’t, but it also wouldn’t matter because as long as he could be with Caleb, he was happy. And it was still a chase, still a pursuit, but more a test of endurance than a sprint and Molly could be patient. They had all the time in the world.

And even apart from romance or sex or whatever else that  _ could  _ happen, Molly treasured their relationship the way it was. He only wanted whatever Caleb would give him and if friendship was everything he gave, well that would be enough. Not enough as in Molly would settle for it, but enough as in it would satisfy him completely. This was how he wanted to live. 

The feeling was intense, and it scared him. Molly was willing to lean into that feeling, but he didn’t know if Caleb would be. He didn’t know if Caleb even felt it too. For all Molly knew, this was his own private drama and Caleb could be completely oblivious to it. And even if Caleb felt this nameless softness and wanting, how could he ask Caleb to give into his feelings like that? It would be so easy to hurt him accidentally, to break him further. He knew that Caleb was a capable man, that he was strong in ways that Molly couldn’t even guess at, but he was afraid to add to that hurt even a little bit, and it would hurt in the end, he was sure. But it was Caleb’s decision to make.

Molly came back to himself a bit and noticed that Caleb had stopped tossing about, so he let his hand go. He watched Caleb sleep for a little while, waiting for him to wake up. When it was clear that he’d settled back into sleep, Molly pulled out his cards again and began practicing tricks. When he tired of cards, he moved on to coins and other slights of hand, sparing occasional looks to see whether Caleb was still sleeping. Despite his attempts to amuse himself, Molly was getting well and truly bored when Nott appeared. 

“Still asleep, huh?” She approached the bed, peering down at Caleb before putting a grimy book on the nightstand. 

“For a while yet, I imagine.” Molly flipped the coin in his hands and sent it spinning upwards. Nott lunged at it, but Molly was faster, letting the gold whirl around his hand before dropping into his sleeve, and from there back into his purse. He snorted, “Nice try.” 

“I’m sorry,” Nott said, “it was very shiny.” 

“Yeah, that’s fair. Haven’t stolen anything lately?”

“Not recently, no,” Nott replied. Her tone of voice seemed a little strange, but Molly let it pass. It was none of his business anyways. He didn’t see Nott discreetly pushing the book out of his view. “I just came up to check on you both, and to see if you wanted dinner. Everyone else is downstairs, and I can stay with Caleb for a while.” Molly considered this for a moment, long enough that Nott noticed. “You probably could use a break,” she suggested. Molly tipped his head in acknowledgement.

“You’re probably right. I’ll be back soon.”

He was as good as his word. Although he enjoyed the company of his friends, he did not appreciate the constant glare that Talbot directed at him. He stayed downstairs only long enough to bolt down a meal and obtain a bottle of wine that he then brought up with him. 

When he returned, Nott was on the floor, immersed in a mess of small parts that looked potentially explosive. She looked up when he entered, her hand slipping on the arrow she was holding before she steadied it. 

“Oh good you’re back. I need some more components, so I have to go out for a bit.” Molly surveyed the mess on the floor.

“Would that component be blasting powder?” He asked. A slow, unsettling grin curled over Nott’s unmasked face, while she thought for a moment.

“Yes,” she said finally. 

“Ok.” 

She left and Molly resumed his post by the bed. Assuming that he probably had a while before Caleb would be up, he decided to read the book Nott had left. The title was ‘Guard of My Heart’ which looked faintly ridiculous, but he didn’t have anything better to do. So, helped along by copious amounts of wine, he began to read it aloud. 

The story turned out to be pretty good. It was about a prince’s guard, who was torn between his attraction to his employer and his duty and (unfounded) fear of taking advantage of the prince. Molly was getting pretty into it (and his wine) and was in the middle of reading a particularly explicit paragraph where the guard and prince  _ finally  _ hooked up when a cough startled him. Molly dropped the book and it thumped to the floor. He’d forgotten Caleb entirely. 

“What the fuck are you reading?” Caleb asked, “and why are you reading it out loud?” 

“Nott left it and I was reading it to you.” Molly said.

“I was asleep, not in a coma,” Caleb replied. “And how long have I been asleep? You’ve almost finished the book.” 

“I skipped ahead a little.” Molly admitted, vaguely embarrassed. 

“This is fucking weird,” Caleb muttered to himself.Then to Molly, “Is there any food? I’m starved.” He sat up, noticing that he was shirtless and pulled the covers protectively up to his chest. 

“Not a lot,” Molly admitted. “It’s pretty late,” he wondered briefly why Nott hadn’t returned. She’d been gone for hours. Molly refocused and began going through his packs. “I have… jerky… cheese… and an apple.” He pulled the items out as he named them and set them on the table next to Caleb.

“This’ll do fine, thanks,” Caleb said before tucking into the food in a way that called Nott’s eating habits to mind. While he ate, Molly filled him in on the events of the past few days, correctly assuming that Caleb wouldn’t remember much of it. 

“It sounds like that must have been a lot of trouble for you,” Caleb said when he’d finished his last piece of jerky. His voice was careful and controlled. 

“It was,” Molly replied mildly, “but I wasn’t about to leave you there.” 

"All these other things... You know, I've been shot before. I've been knocked out before. That's all expected. Par for the course, as it were. But this..." Caleb trailed off, his eyes fixed on the floor. 

"Is it so unexpected?" Molly asked softly. 

"Ja," Caleb looked directly into his eyes for a brief moment. "Ja," he repeated, this time to the floor. “You… you did not have to.” Molly wished that Caleb would look at him. He wished that Caleb would  _ see.  _ He’d never wanted to embrace someone so badly in his life. But he wouldn’t. Because Caleb wouldn’t like it. He’d retreat into the shell of himself that he wore like armour, and Molly wouldn’t be able to stand that.

“Of course I had to. I wanted to.” Molly paused to breathe, tried to put his thoughts in order. When he spoke, he was halting, unsure. “You don’t know what you mean to people. I know you think it’s because you’re… useful… but it isn’t just that. The group would be poorer without you."

Molly's demeanor belied none of the frustration he was feeling. He took a moment to search for words and found them only with difficulty. 

"People like having you around," he said finally. It wasn’t enough. How could it ever be?

Caleb tried to wrap his mind around what Molly was saying and found that he couldn’t quite do it. “But Beauregard-,” he began.

“No, never mind Beau, she’s just as awkward as you are. It isn’t about that,” Molly interrupted. “Dammit, Caleb. I don’t know how to explain to you-.” And for maybe the first time in his life, Molly felt himself lost for words. He was often unable to express himself with the eloquence or charm he desired, but this was something entirely beyond him.

“I don’t understand.” Caleb said finally.

“I know you don’t, but try to. You’re not just a collection of things that are useful, or useless. No one is making a running tally to see if you balance out. You’re- you’re a whole person and all of that is good. If you weren’t hellishly awkward, or if you weren't brilliant or sad, you wouldn’t be you.”

“Ah, I am more than the sum of my parts?” Caleb’s voice was curiously empty of any inflection. Molly would have given anything to know what he was thinking. This wasn't working. Caleb wasn't hearing him. Molly forged on ahead. It was already uncomfortable, he could hardly make it worse.

“I know you’re fucked up,” Molly said, “and I’m sure you’ve done things you’re not proud of. We all have. Your past doesn’t matter to me. Nothing you have done can change my opinion of you. I care about the man you are, not who you were.”

Caleb's face contorted before he laughed, a strained and broken sound. "You only say that because you do not know what you are talking about." 

“So tell me,” Molly said simply. Caleb was quiet for a long time. 

"I want to tell you. I want to tell you a lot of things but... but I can't right now. I just can't." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "And maybe soon, I can put my thoughts together in a way that makes sense, but I can't right now." He couldn't look at Molly. He was afraid of the gentleness he might find there. He wanted it more than he could say. "I have done horrible things," he whispered. “You would not-..." he choked on his breath, "I can’t-.” And that was all, really. Though he wanted to, there was nothing more Caleb could say. 

“It’s alright.” Molly told him firmly. “Don’t say anything you don’t want to.” And Caleb fiercely wanted to tell him that it wasn’t that, that he  _ did  _ want to tell him, but he couldn’t because the words were caught in his throat because how could he risk the kindness Molly had shown him. That kind of affection could only exist in the ignorance of his sins. Molly’s tone grew tender, and Caleb’s heart ached with it. “We have time, Caleb. I’m not going to run out on you. If you trust nothing else, trust this; I’ll still be here when you want to talk.”

Molly studied Caleb’s averted face. He could feel unidentified emotion pouring out of him. He wanted to know Caleb's secrets, if only so he could be unburdened by the sharing. There was something eating away at him, and Molly could help him, but only so much. There was nothing more he could do now. If he kept pushing, it would turn into something they’d both regret. So, he could be patient. He could wait for now.

Molly watched as Caleb seemed to fold in on himself, like he was getting physically smaller. 

“I- I’d like you to go,” Caleb whispered, his voice raw. Molly felt something in him fall. He hesitated, torn between respecting his wishes and not wanting to leave Caleb alone while he was like this. He wanted to touch Caleb, to shelter him in his arms and hide him from whatever was hurting him. Molly knew that wouldn’t be well received, so he limited himself to briefly patting Caleb’s shoulder. Caleb felt the contact, a lasting burning pain. He missed it desperately when it was gone. 

"I meant what I said," Molly said, "I meant every word of it." And then, as Caleb had asked, he left. The room felt colder without Molly in it. He knew that wasn’t possible, really. But he felt it. 

Caleb lay back on the bed, staring listlessly up at the ceiling. He was so goddamn tired. He snapped halfheartedly and Frumpkin appeared on his chest. The cat settled in, purring so low that Caleb felt it more than heard it. Frumpkin extended his claws slightly, shifting and making small biscuits on Caleb’s chest. It hurt only a little, but Caleb didn’t tell him to stop. It was very sweet and almost enough. Caleb laid his hand against the cat, unable to muster the energy even to pet him. He stayed that way, unmoving until he fell back into his restless dreams. 

Caleb didn’t speak privately with Molly again while they were in the town. He busied himself with recovering and reading the book Nott had found for him. The Nein only stayed for another day or so, until they were all resupplied and well enough to travel. 

Caleb thought about bringing the conversation up again, but didn’t. They were on a mission and he was distracted. He would do it after, when they had some real downtime, in a city where he and Nott could disappear if they needed to. It wasn’t going to happen immediately and he was fine with that, if Molly had meant what he said about sticking around. 

Right now, they needed their priorities straight. After all, The Gentleman had been very specific. They had thirty days to complete their tasks, no longer. The road called and the clock was ticking. 


End file.
